


The Lang Curse

by Walutahanga



Category: Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman (Reeveverse), Superman - All Media Types, Superman Returns (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Humor, Mild Sexual Content, Moving On, Multi, OOC, Out of Character, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a statistical fact that every man who has been romantic competition for Clark Kent has succumbed to some horrible fate. The only way to avoid it is to immediately start dating someone else. Richard doesn't believe in the Lang Curse, but unfortunately for him every woman in Metropolis does and wants to help him out - for purely altruistic reasons, of course. </p><p>(A mash-up of Superman Returns, Smallville, and the comics canon. Not meant to be take remotely seriously).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lang Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This started several years ago because my sister and I both agreed that Richard was very hot and very sweet, and deserved way better than to be ditched for Clark Kent. This was my attempt at fixing that. I don't think he'd thank me for it.

“You know what you need to do?” Chloe said out of the blue at work. 

“No,” Richard said, not looking up from his perusal of a folder. “What do I need to do?”

“You need to get laid.”

“Hmm. Probably.” A second later his brain processed what she’d said. “Wait, what?”

Chloe hadn’t even looked up from her computer screen.

“It’s been six months since Lois dumped your ass. She gets to have hot sweaty marathon sex with Superman night after night. I don’t think you’ve gone on a single date since the break up.” 

Richard opened his mouth, closed it.

He had long ago accepted that he and Chloe will never have a normal employer-employee relationship. He’d been for all intents and purposes married to her cousin for five years, and once he became part of the I-know-Superman’s-secret-identity-and-I’m-not-a-villain club, he’d pretty much jettisoned any hope of maintaining any kind of normal working relationship with her.

But commenting on his sex life was probably going a bit far.

“Chloe, I don’t think –”

“Trust me,” said Chloe. “Once you get caught up in a turgid love triangle involving Clark Kent, the only sure-fire way to get over it is to find a brand new love interest.”

“Chloe –”

“Otherwise you spend ten years doing the guy’s research, protecting his secrets, dragging his two hundred pound ass away from whatever kryptonite he’s managed to run into that week –”

“Chloe – ”

“ – and in the end he runs off with your cousin, who’s like a carbon copy of you, only with even less people skills!”

The freakish thing was that Chloe’s fingers never ceased on the keyboard through that whole tirade, nor did her eyes leave the screen. She was one of the best reporters in Richard’s department. As good as himself, he could admit.  It was a running joke in the bull pen that she’d had her eye on his job since the day he hired her.

“Chloe,” he said patiently. “Lois was my fiancée.”

“Oh I know that. I’m just saying – what with me and Lois and your uncle Perry in the family, Jason’s going to have the manners of a savage…”

“That’s true, but not my point. I don’t _want_ to get involved with someone again so soon.”

“Lois got involved with Clark pretty quick,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“I said I don’t mean you should get into another epic romance. Frankly, they’re tiring. I’m saying you should start dating again. You know, connect with people, have some fun.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Trust me. It’s for your own good.” Chloe looked about carefully, then stood up and leaned in with the air of someone about to impart secrets of national security. “Have you ever heard of the Lang Curse?”

“Don’t you mean Lana L –”

“Shhh! Don’t say her _name_!”

Richard took a step back, taken aback by her vehemence. 

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Chloe relaxed a little. “Anyway, You-Know-Who was Clark’s girlfriend in high school...”

Richard tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Clark was dating Voldemort?”

“Richard, would be serious for five minutes? What I’m telling you may save your life oneday.”

Richard cleared his throat.

“Right. Sorry. I’m listening.”

“ _Anyway_.” Chloe gave him a sharp look to make sure he wasn’t laughing again. “Clark and… this person… had this big, angsty romance that lasted on and off for about ten years. In that time, she-who-must-not-be-named had a other boyfriends.”

“So?”

“So.” Chloe’s voice was a harsh whisper. “None of these boyfriends lasted a year past dating her! Whitney joined the army and got killed in action, Ian was committed, Jason died in a meteor shower, Adam turned out to be dead already, that magnetic guy went into a coma, Tina got committed then skewered, and we all know how the thing with Lex went…”

She listed them off on her fingers without taking a breath between.

“Yes,” Richard said. “But that doesn’t prove anything, other than she had really bad taste in men. And women, apparently.”

“Doesn’t prove anything?” Chloe gave him a look that said she was surprised he managed to last beyond his eighteenth birthday. “It is a certifiable fact that any man who has been romantic competition for Clark Kent has sooner or later succumbed to some horrible fate! The only survivors were the ones who started dating other people, like Arthur or Oliver!”

“Still on that old kick, Sullivan?” Jimmy stopped by Chloe’s desk. Chloe gave him a look that would have sent an arctic breeze through hell. 

“It’s not an old kick when our boss’ life is in danger,” she snapped. “And what the hell are you doing talking to me?”

“You left your bra at my place,” he replied, equally cool. “Thought you might want it back.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m sure you’ll find _some_ use for it.”

They were glaring at each other like tennis champions, squaring off for a match. Richard tried to remember whether they were ‘off’ or ‘on’ this week and decided it didn’t really matter, since they couldn’t always agree on that either.  In any case, the last thing he wanted was to get caught in one of their arguments, which Lois had once affectionately referred to as ‘public foreplay’ and caused Richard to inhale coffee.

“…the statistics support my theory, _Olsen_.”

“Sullivan, it’s a ridiculous urban legend, perpetuated by meteor mutants locked up by Clark himself and – lets face it – none too stable to begin with...”

They barely noticed when Richard borrowed Lois’ stash of cigarettes from the secret compartment in the stationary cupboard, and ducked up to the rooftop.

* * *

 

Metropolis was a sparkling expanse of glass and metal under the afternoon sun. At first glance, it was quite beautiful. One would never think it was a hot-spot for natural disasters and crazed supervillains. Richard had attended high school in Gotham, and he found he rather missed the other city’s dark intrigue. At least Gotham had never hidden it’s true nature under pretty smiles and sparkling rooftops.

Richard decided he was being a little too introspective about his city-gazing, and ground out the remains of his cigarette on the building ledge. Looking down at the busy streets far, far below, it occurred to him that if Chloe’s theory was true, he was probably thumbing his nose at fate right now.

“The Lang Curse,” he muttered, lighting up another cigarette defiantly. “ _Honestly_.”

Behind him, a woman’s voice said:

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke, Mr White.”

Assuming one of his female employees had followed him up here, he said, turning round:

“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t do but – ”

It was Supergirl. She was floating a few feet above the concrete, breeze rippling the blue miniskirt about her legs, and with a severe expression that was almost an exact replica of Kal-El’s. 

It was a little known fact that Richard had a bit of a crush on Supergirl ever since she turned up in Metropolis a few months ago. Sure, she was Kal-El’s cousin, but Richard figured that if Kal-El could impregnate Richard’s fiancee, take off for five years, then come back and take her back as if nothing could happened, then Richard could enjoy the occasional fantasy involving Kara and the cockpit of an F-16.

That was why he was finding it so hard to believe that Supergirl really _was_ standing ( _floating_ ) in front of him and telling him off for smoking. He stared at her, unable to come up with a response, the cigarette forgotten between his lips. 

She raised an eyebrow at his expression, mouth quirking in a tiny smirk that made him a little bit hard.

“But then, what is that, you earthlings say? ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it?’” She floated down, boots touching down with surprising lightness. Richard couldn’t stop staring at the boots. They were solid affairs, like Kal-El’s, made of dark red leather with chunky soles and lots of straps and really, he shouldn’t find them as sexy as he did.

Kara stole the cigarette from between his lips and took a long drag.

“But how rude of me. Let me get you another.”

She casually snagged the packet from his front pocket and pulled a cigarette out, setting it between his lips for him. One hand delved into his left trouser pocket for his lighter and lit up the cigarette.

“Much better.”

She smiled sweetly up at him as she tucked lighter and packet back in his pocket. Richard found himself studying her face. Although he’d seen pictures – and owned a life-sized poster in the back of his cupboard he’d bought in a moment of weakness – he hadn’t actually met her face to face. Despite the tossled blonde hair, there was an undeniable resemblance between her and Clark. They had the same eyes and pale skin, and the same strong jaw, though her features were softened into femininity.

“I’m Richard White,” he said, as his brain finally caught up.

She smiled again, tapping ash against the ledge.

“I know.”

“Right. Of course you do.” Everyone knew about Lois’ ex-fiancee who had the balls to think he could compete with Superman. Even Supergirl who spent most of her time either off-world or in the thirty-first century and thus hadn’t really met much of her extended family.

Supergirl took a long drag, blue eyes intent on Richard’s face.

“You know,” she said conversationally. “On Krypton, if any man had done what he did to you, he would be called out to duel.”

“Me vs. The Man of Steel. Yeah, that’ll go real well.”

She laughed. He couldn’t help but smile. It was an insane situation, kind of like a dream. Him on the Daily Planet rooftop, chatting up Supergirl. Not that he expected to get anywhere, but he would enjoy it for as long as she wanted to play.

“Not that I’m not glad to finally meet you,” he said. “But… what are you doing here? Are you looking for Superman?”

She smiled mysteriously.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Really.”

“Yes.” She blew a thin stream of smoke to the side. He got distracted watching her pursed lips for a moment. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee sometime.”

Richard blinked, shook his head and laughed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear you. I could have sworn you just asked me out for coffee.”

A small frown formed between her eyes.

“I did.”

“Oh.”

Had he been any other man, Richard probably would have been deliriously happy at this juncture. Unfortunately, he happened to know Kara’s cousin, and also knew from said cousin that Kara was new to earth and inexperienced with men.  Which made dating her morally suspect – and dangerous, given who she was related to.

“Am I not going about this in the correct manner?” Kara said anxiously. “This is the first time I have participated in this human ritual called ‘dating’, so if I have gotten it wrong –”

“What?” He stood up straighter. “Oh no, no. You’re doing fine. This is just a little bit unexpected, that’s all.”

She sighed.

“Things were so much simpler on Krypton,” she said.

“What was that like?”

“Oh you know.” She waved a hand. “If a woman liked a man, she would abduct him and tie him to a bed and perform the dance of Seven Feathers for him. That old thing.”

Richard suddenly had to swallow.

“Seven feathers?” He managed.

“Well, tradition calls for seven, but you can usually get away with three.”

“I see. That’s very… interesting.”

He made a mental note not to mention any of this to Clark. Judging by this conversation, Clark’s estimation of Kara was way off.

“So.” Kara ground out her cigarette on the building ledge and looked up at him expectantly. “What is your answer?”

“Uh…”

There was a reason fantasies usually remained fantasies. In this case, it was big and blue and frighteningly protective of his baby cousin. If this conversation ever got back to Clark, Richard would find himself held dangling above the streets of Metropolis in very short order. Because he was Jason’s father, Clark might not drop him. _Might_.

“Listen, Kara,” Richard began. “You’re amazing. Really.”

“But…?”

“But I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? You see, I have heard of this phenomenon called the Lang Curse and when –”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Chloe ran me through the basics.”

“Then you know that the best way to avoid the repercussions is to immediately become romantically involved with someone else.” She reached out and touched his cheek. Her hand was very warm. “And you, Richard White, are much too attractive to die.”

Richard gazed down at her smiling, inviting mouth and felt that perhaps there really were things worth dying for. Right at that moment, kissing Supergirl seemed worth the evisceration and slow death that would surely follow.

Fortunately ( _perhaps_ ) for Richard, providence intervened at this moment. Supergirl frowned, tilting her head as if hearing something.

“I have to go,” she said. “Flood in Brazil.”

She rose into the air, glanced down and hesitated. She swooped down and kissed him: just a bare brush of her lips against his.

“If you change your mind, call me.”

Her voice was a warm caress. Then there was a breeze and she was gone. 

* * *

“Let me get this straight. 

Chloe Sullivan gazed steadily at Richard across his desk. One finger was tapping the folder she was holding in a tight, contained beat.

“Kara Zor-El, Supergirl, the object of every straight man’s fantasy, asked you out on a date… _and you turned her down?!_ ”

Richard tried not to squirm in his chair. Some days it was easy to forget Chloe worked for him, and not the other way round.

“It wouldn’t feel right,” he said.

Chloe leaned across and smacked him up the back of the head.

“ARE YOU CRAZY? You call her, and you tell her you’ve changed your mind right now!”

He rubbed the back of his head sourly. 

“How? She’s not exactly listed in the phone book.”

“She has superhearing, you twit. Yell her name. Or, if you’re really desperate, throw yourself from the top of this building.”

“And if she doesn’t catch me?”

“Then obviously she’s no longer interested. Which is a good enough reason to throw yourself of a building in any case.” Chloe huffed, muttering to herself about idiotic pretty boys who couldn’t see what was right in front of their noses. Richard thought that was uncalled for.

“Look, I just don’t think it’d work out,” he said. “She’s ten years younger than me, she occasionally turns evil, and Clark will flash-fry any man who asks her for the time of day. There’s a whole bunch of reasons right there not to get involved.”

Chloe quieted down, giving him an intent look.

“You’re afraid,” she said, as if just realizing something.

“Of course I’m afraid,” he said scathingly. “Her cousin is the Man of Steel and thinks she’s as innocent as the pure driven snow.”

“I’m not talking about Clark,” she retorted. “I’m talking about you. You really don’t want to move on.”

Richard opened his mouth to refute that, and found nothing.

“I could have sworn that you worked for me,” he said sourly.

“Yeah, for like another year, tops. You’re still hung up on Lois, aren’t you.”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“She’s my cousin. You’re my boss. That makes it my business. Answer the question.”

“No, I am not hung up on Lois. Don’t you have an interview with a senator tonight you should be getting ready for?”

“You know, if I were more of a humanitarian I would set you up with someone.”

“Get out of my office.”

“How about Cat Grant? I hear she’s always up for –”

“Out!”

* * *

The nice thing about being related to Superman’s family was that there was always someone available to babysit in an emergency. The Supers, as Richard had mentally dubbed them, were fairly numerous and could be at the house within minutes, even when they lived halfway across the world. There was also the added bonus that Jason couldn’t accidentally break them as he could ordinary babysitters.

Richard and Lois took full advantage of this fact during their respective weeks with Jason. They both had full careers, and now that they were living apart, it was that much harder to juggle their commitments. So when Richard got a call from Chloe saying she’d been called in by the League (which meant either they needed Watchtower to hack into a top-secret government program, or Green Arrow was getting anti-virus messages on his laptop) and asked him to cover for her with the senator tonight, Richard quickly scanned his list of emergency contacts. His first choice, Martha Kent, was on her honeymoon with Ben Hubbard, so he called Cir-El.

Unfortunately, Cir-El was downtown, dealing with a bunch of kryptonite-powered animals gone mad.

“Are you sure you can’t come around afterwards?” Richard said hopefully, ignoring the whinnying and bleating from Cir-El’s end.

“Sorry, Uncle Rich!” She shouted over the mayhem. “I would if I could – oh _fu_ –” The sound of an explosion made Richard jerk his ear away from the phone. “Gotta go, Uncle Rich,” Cir-El said, sounding flustered when she came back on the line. “The pony just figured out he has heat-vision.”

“Okay,” Richard sighed. “Be careful. And don’t forget family dinner on Sunday.”

“Will do,” she said cheerfully, and hung up.

The next person he tried was Superwoman or, as the family knew her, Linda Danvers. He and Linda got along extremely well. Ever since she’d disappeared to an alternate dimension (or past dimension; trying to figure it out gave Richard a headache) and came back ten years older, with memories of being married to the Clark there, she and Richard had figured they had something in common; a deep abiding resentment for Lois and Clark’s marriage.  They met up every so often for cocktails and to rant. Richard considered it therapeutic.

“I’m sorry, Richard,” Linda said. “It’s my week with Ariella, remember?”

Richard could have slapped himself in the head. That’s right. A few months ago, Laura had saved the life of a skinny, rather excitable man by beating the crap out of (quote) some ‘giant pepper pots’ (unquote). The skinny man had turned out to be a big deal in the time-travelling circuit and was nice enough to negotiate some sort of deal so Linda could travel to the other dimension (or was it the future?) every month or so to see her daughter. It would be unfair of Richard to ask her to cancel.

“Nevermind,” he said. “I’ll find someone else. You have a good trip.”

He hung up and spent a few moments thinking with vengeful satisfaction on the numerous children Clark had scattered through the various dimensions, and yet still couldn’t seem to grasp the basics of fatherhood. He stopped himself. At least half of those children weren’t Clark’s fault at all, being the results of genetic tampering and evil criminal masterminds.

Speaking of which…. He dialled another number, and waited for an answer.

“Hey, Uncle Rich! What’s up?”

Richard sighed in relief as Kon-El’s cheerful voice floated down the phone-line.

“Kon, hi. Listen, I know this is short notice, but I was wondering if you could babysit tonight?”

There was a whooshing noise from Kon’s end.

“Kon?” Richard said. “Kon-El?”

There was a knock at the door, and Kon walked in, looking only a little rumpled. Richard hung up the phone.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

Richard raised an eyebrow.

“In Smallville,” Kon admitted. “But hey – a night in with the little dude! How can I say no?”

Kon and Jason had taken to each other with a speed that had disconcerted Clark. As good as he was with Jason, he still didn’t know quite what to do with a teenager, much less one that was partly cloned from Luthor. Luckily, Kon embraced the role of big brother wholeheartedly, and accepted Jason’s hero worship as his due.

“Jason!” Richard called up the stairs. “Connor’s here!”

He heard the sound of Jason’s feet hitting the floor in his bedroom, and running down the hall.

“Thanks for this, Kon,” he said, turning back to the boy. “Tonight’s really important and everyone else seems booked out.”

“No problem. So what have you got on? Big date?” The leer on Kon’s face was kind of disturbing.

“Just a meeting with a senator,” Richard said, knotting his tie. “Now Jason’s had his dinner and brushed his teeth. He can watch one hour of television, then you have to put him to bed. And be firm about it.”

“’kay.” Kon’s responsible face dissolved when Jason came thumping down the stairs. “What’s up, little dude? Give me five.”

Jason smacked his hand into Kon’s, and ducked his head bashfully, looking at his shoes. As he grew older, his physical resemblance to Lois had become more pronounced. But he lacked the forthrightness of Lois’ side of the family, or Richard’s relaxed charm, or even Perry’s blunt honesty. They had never been able to figure out who he took after, until Clark returned. Then it was fairly obvious. He was just like Kal-El, who – contrary to popular oppinion – was incredibly shy, retreating behind the Clark persona like a tortoise pulling it’s shell down for cover.

Kon was the opposite. He was impulsive and smart-mouthed and had a half-assed approach to anything involving the word ‘work.’ It made Richard wonder who he took after, seeing as he seemed nothing like either Luthor _or_ Clark. 

“Can we go flying?” Jason piped up hopefully. Flying was one of the powers that he – thank god – had not developed yet.

“Sure, little dude.” Kon-El did a double-take, adding quickly: “So long as it’s right with your dad, of course.”

Richard, not being an idiot, knew perfectly well that Kon had taken Jason out before without asking permission. Also being a realist, he figured there wasn’t any way to stop it short of cutting off contact altogether. Mentally he shrugged. It was the role of big brothers to get little brothers into trouble. So long as Kon didn’t drop him, and didn’t engage any super-villains in battle at the same time, Richard was fine with it. 

“A _short_ flight,” he emphasised. “So long as you go straight to bed afterwards. Deal?”

Jason beamed.

“Deal!”

Richard turned to Kon.  

“There’s some left over chicken in the fridge. Help yourself if you get hungry.”

“Thanks, Uncle Rich.”

Kon stood in the background, rocking back and forth on his heels as Richard knotted his tie in the mirror.

“So… Uncle Rich… has Kara spoken to you yet?”

Subtlety wasn’t one of Kon’s strong points. In Richard’s mind, suspicions were formed and confirmed in the space of an instant.

“Kon,” he said, turning about. His flat tone was rarely utilized, and thus kind of scary. “Is there something you would like to tell me?”

“Me? No, of course not. Why does everyone always assume –”

“Kon.”

“Okay, okay.” Kon backed up, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I might have accidentlyonpurpose told Kara that you think she’s hot.”

 _Of course._ Richard mentally smacked himself in the forehead.  Kara didn’t just come on to him at random. Someone had put her up to it.

“Why would you tell her that?” He demanded. 

 Kon rolled his eyes.

“Hel- _lo_. Full scale pin-up in your cupboard not exactly subtle.”

“What were you doing in my cupboard!?” 

“I was trying to teach mini-me about X-ray vision and it’s not like I can _un_ -see stuff.”

Richard put a hand to the bridge of his nose.

“And you thought you’d just ‘help out’,” he said wearily.

Kon nodded eagerly.

“Yeah. Exactly. Not everyone can have my talent with the ladies, so why not share the love?”

Richard thought about pointing out that it was _Richard_ who had explained the mechanics of sex to a wide-eyed Kon several years ago, since Martha thought he’d be more comfortable talking to a guy, and no one in their right mind would ask Clark Kent to explain the birds and the bees. Lex Luthor wasn’t even worth mentioning.

“So,” Kon says. “When are you two going to get it on?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“We’re not,” Richard said tightly. Kon looked gobsmacked.

“Why not?” He waved his hand in vague fluttery motions, outlining the hourglass shape of an imaginary woman’s body all the while giving Richard pained looks as if to demand: _‘Why? Why?!’_

“Kon,” Richard said. “I appreciate the gesture, but _think_ about it for a second. Kara is Clark’s baby cousin. Pure, innocent, and in need of protection against the big, bad world.”

“You know, that’s actually a common misconception– ”

“That’s how _Clark_ sees her. Now how do you think he’d react if Kara started dating a man ten years her senior who also used to date Clark’s own girlfriend?”

Kon thought about it.

“…not good?” He said at last. 

“Exactly.”

Kon, to his credit, looked abashed at this oversight.

“Sorry, Uncle Rich. I didn’t think of that.”

Richard sighed. Kon did take after Clark in some ways – mostly pertinently, his ability to be completely thoughtless in what he said and did. And yet he, like Clark, was always genuinely remorseful of his mistakes and impossible not to forgive.

“That’s alright,” Richard sighed. “Just… don’t do it again, alright?”

“Okay.” Kon nodded eagerly. He followed Richard down the hall. “But you know Kara’s not the only Supergirl and I’m pretty sure she’s the only one Clark would kill you for dating. If you like I can set you up with one of the others…”

“That’s a nice thought, but no.”

“Why not?” Kon looked baffled. “They’re hot!”

An indepth discussion of his sex life with his sort-of-step-son was the last thing Richard wanted to get into, so he gave Kon the same answer he’d given Kara.

“I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”

“Pfft! Uncle Rich, have you _seen_ the Supergirls? I’d do ‘em, and I’m seventy percent sure that’s incest.”

“Conner – two things. One, that’s incredibly disturbing. And two, the answer is still no.”

Kon looked so crestfallen, Richard felt guilty. Then Kon shuffled forward.

“Uh, Uncle Richard. I didn’t want to tell you this, but there was a reason I set you up with them. You know, aside from you really needing to get laid.”

Richard’s motions slowed and stop. He turned to face Kon, prepared to hear the worst. Worst rating somewhere between an apocalypse and Clark being dosed with pink krpytonite again. Kon wet his lips and looked desperately uncomfortable and guilty as only a person about to deliver news of a terminal illness could.

“You see, back in Smallville, Clark used to have this girlfriend –”

Richard relaxed, relieved and a little annoyed that Kon scared him like that.

“You’re talking about Lana L–”

“Shh!” Kon waved his arms, looked spooked. “Don’t say her _name_!”

Oh for god's sake... 

“Don’t tell me you believe that nonsense about a curse.”

“Dude, two dots make a coincidence. Thirty dots make a freaking outbreak.”

“Kon.” Richard put his hands on Kon’s shoulders. “I’m not going to die. I promise.” When Kon still didn’t look unconvinced, he continued: “This whole thing about a curse is just a girl who had a run of bad luck… for about ten years or so… and people making up stories. It’s not real. Besides, look at her now. She’s happily married to Pete Ross with two kids. If the curse was real, could that happen?”

“I guess…” Kon slowly relaxed, his customary grin returning. “Yeah, you’re right. I was just worried. You’re the best father I have.”

Richard opened his mouth to refute that, and closed it again. There are many things Clark was good at. Parenting a teenager was not one of them. At least Luthor made an effort to send birthday presents on the correct day and gave gentle hints that if Connor wanted to go to such-and-such university, Luthor could have a little chat with the dean. Despite Richard’s best intentions to stay clear of the whole mess, he’d found himself once again drifting into the role of father-figure, taking Kon clothes shopping, helping him with his homework, and giving him advice.

Oddly touched, Richard squeezed Kon’s shoulder.

“Well, I should be off,” he said. “I’m going to be late as it is…”

“Um, Uncle Rich? One more thing.”

Kon looked shifty. The headache abruptly returned behind Richard’s eyes.

“Yes, Kon?”

The words spilled out of Kon’s mouth almost too fast to be understood.

“What if I told you, hypothetically speaking, that I described you to all the ladies in the Justice League.”

“What?”

“And handed out your photograph.”

“…”

“And possibly your phone number.”

* * *

“Look on the bright side.” Chloe snapped open the asparin packet and popped the pill fizzing into the glass. “At least it was only Justice League. 

She set the glass on Richard’s desk.

“ _Only_ Justice League?” He said.

“Well.” Chloe settled behind her own desk. “At least they’re old enough to vote and drink. He could just easily have been setting you up with Teen Titans. And I’m pretty sure Wonder Woman and Green Arrow would take issue with you being pimped out to their protégés.”

Richard shuddered at the thought.

“Point taken.”

He took a sip of the aspirin.  Jimmy waited till Chloe answered the phone, then leaned across Richard’s desk.

“So Superboy offered to set you up with one of the Supergirls?” He whispered. “Whichever one you wanted?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Jimmy had a far-away look in his eyes.

“I’d pick Matrix,” he said. “I mean sure she’s an android but –”

“Protoplasmic matrix.”

“What?”

“Protoplasmic matrix. She’s not technically an android, but an artificial lifeform that can assume whatever shape she desires – in this case, Supergirl.” Richard rattled the fact off without even really thinking about it.

Chloe put down the phone.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to date the Supergirls, you sure know a lot about them.”

Thankfully at that moment, the door opened and the mail boy rapped on the glass.

“Package for you, Mr White.”

He handed Richard a thick yellow envelope and left. Richard frowned at it. It was pretty heavy. Maybe some forms Lois had forgotten to give him? He ripped open the envelope and glossy photographs spilled out across the desk. His heart just about stopped when he saw the subject matter. He and Kara, atop the Daily Planet. Her lighting his cigarette, standing very close, his hands nearly brushing hers. Their eyes meeting over the small flame. No doubt in anyone’s mind what they were both thinking.

“Woah.”

Jimmy leaned over Richard’s shoulder.

“And you still said no?”

Richard quickly slapped the photographs face down and started searching through them for a note. The phone rang, and Chloe answered.

“Daily Planet, Richard White’s office.” She listened for a moment and covered the mouthpiece. “Hey, Richard!”

“Not, now, Chloe.”

“Trust me,” she says, covering the phone as she pushed it at him. “ _This_ you want to take.”

Richard accepted it reluctantly.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was sultry and feminine.

“Richard White, this is Oracle.”

Richard sent an accusing look at Chloe, who was making no attempt at all to look like she wasn’t listening. 

“Really,” he said. 

“You doubt me?” ‘Oracle’ sounded amused. “Don’t you like the little surprise I sent you?”

Richard glanced at the photos. While he was distracted, Jimmy had taken one and was examining it with a little more interest than Richard was comfortable with. He took it off Jimmy with a frown that sent the other man backing off.

“Anyone could have taken these,” he said to Oracle.

“True, but not everyone would know just how annoyed… oh, say… Clark Kent would be to see them.”

“I’m sorry?” Richard said, making a credible attempt at confusion.

She laughs softly.

“Play ignorant if you like. That suits me just fine.”

“Why did you send me these photos?”

“I thought you’d prefer not to see them run on the front page of every tabloid in the country. Everyone knows that the Daily Planet roof is where Lois Lane meets Superman. Rather careless of you to choose the same rendezvous. Anyhow, I’ve had some of my associates find and destroy the negatives. What you’re holding are the last copies in existence.”

Sweet relief filled Richard.

“Why –”

“A precaution. Superman hides it well, but he does have a temper. And I’d rather Batman not have to put him out with kryptonite until he calms down.”

“Ah.”

It suddenly struck him that he’s talking to one of the reclusive Batclan. A lot of reporters would kill for less. Batman disdained to involve the press unless strictly necessary, and he must have put the fear of god into the Robins because none of them have exchanged more than two words with a reporter. Even Nightwing was difficult to pin down, whilst Huntress was just plain scary. There were other vigilantes haunting Gotham, but they must have gotten the same talking to, because they were just as difficult to find.

“I thought Gothamites don’t talk to the press,” Richard said, reaching for a pencil. 

“Usually no,” she said. “I made an exception for you. Just you, actually.”

He pressed a little too hard on the pencil, snapping the tip. He licked his suddenly-dry lips and forced his thoughts back into linear progression.

“So tell me,” she continued. “That little meeting on the rooftop. Is that a regular thing?”

“What? Oh no, no. Supergirl and I aren’t like that. She was under a… misconception, and I set her straight.”

“Hmm.” There’s a rustle of movement on the other end, like she’s sitting up a little.

“You know,” he remarks. “You could have just destroyed all the photos and sent me note. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get my attention.”

“But I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, and he was sure he wasn’t imagining the playful note in her voice. “Maybe I just wanted to hear what you sounded like. A girl can tell a lot about a guy by the sound of his voice.”

“So what do I sound like?” He says, enjoying this game.

“Tall,” Oracle says. “Sexy. Gorgeous blue eyes. Nice hands. And kind to animals and children. That’s always a plus.”

“You seem to have me all figured out then,” he said. He was smiling. It was a long time since he had engaged in this playful banter. Lois was quite straightforward in what she did – and didn’t – want. And Kara had been almost frighteningly forthright.

“I doubt that,” Oracle said. “You strike me as the type of man who takes a while to figure out.”

“So is this you offering me an exclusive?”

“Oh no,” she said. “This is me offering to buy you a coffee.”

“Over the phone?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’d have some acquaintances of mine kidnap you, and bring you to my secret lair, where we’d drink coffee fresh from Kope Lawak and talk about our dreams and aspirations. You’d have to wear a blindfold, but I’m sure an intelligent man like you can get around that kind of limitation.”

Chloe hissed at him:

“What’s she saying?”

Richard waved her off.

“Listen, Oracle…”

“Oh, no,” she sighed. It was a very sexy sigh. “I know how that sentence ends.”

“It’s not you,” he said. “It’s the same thing I told Supergirl. I’m just not dating anyone at the moment.”

“Are you sure?” There’s sudden touch of concern in her voice. “Because I’ve noticed a particular trend regarding Clark Kent’s love life...”

“Don’t tell me,” Richard says. “The Lang curse?”

“You’ve heard of it? Batman had me investigate it once. We were working with the hypothesis that maybe Kal-El was behind it, but we quickly figured out that these were completely random events, apparent flukes. There seemed to be no underlying reason for them. Eventually we concluded the only possible explanation was some kind of mystical force.”

That worries Richard, just a little. If the Lang Curse worried _Batman_ … But Batman according to Clark was so paranoid he suspected the milkman of plotting against him.

“I can take care of myself,” he says firmly.

“Are you certain? Because I’d be happy to engage in a meaningless sex with you to stave off any potential repercussions. For the good of humanity and all that.”

“I – ” Richard will never know how he was planning to answer, because at that moment, there is the shatter of breaking glass, and Chloe shrieking, and something clubbing him into unconsciousness. Oracle’s voice follows him down into darkness.

“Richard, what’s happening? Richard –”

* * *

Richard woke with his cheek pressed against cold concrete. He had a headache and a funny taste in his mouth, kind of sweet and tingly

 _Oh great_ , he thought. _Clark_ _found out about Kara._

“I know you are awake, puny human.”

That was not Clark’s voice. Richard raised his head and discovered a pair of very sexy legs inches in front of his face. As far as wake-ups go, this wasn’t in the top ten, but it definitely wasn't rock-bottom. He looked up into a coldly beautiful face.

“I am Maxima,” she intoned. 

“Pleased to meet you,” Richard’s mouth said automatically.

“Of course you are,” she said. “All are pleased to meet the great Maxima.”

In Richard’s world, talking in third person was never, ever a good sign.

“Well, this is different,” he said, sitting up and looking around the abandoned warehouse they're in. “Usually it’s Lois who gets kidnapped to lure Superman into a trap. You’re original at least.”

“Pah! Do not speak to me of that pathetic kryptonian scum!” Maxima waved the subject off with an expression of both anger and pure feminine scorn. Richard had seen that expression on Lois, when she was trying to pretend that something wasn't bothering her. “I have had it up to here with that indecisive twit!”

“You aren’t happy with Superman, I gather,” Richard said. He used his ‘sympathetic’ voice. On Lois, this combined with a footrub had never failed to distract her from a hard day at work 

Maxima plonked herself down on a nearby crate.

“You are correct,” she said. “I travel across entire _galaxies_ to propose to that man, and he turns me down. _Me_ , Maxima!”

“Entire galaxies?” Richard said, injecting a note of awe into his voice. Maxima nodded, encouraged.

“Yes! Fair enough, I say. He’s not ready. So I wait. I change my ways. I do _good_. I fight for truth and justice. And then what does he do? He goes back to that milksop!”

“Isn’t that the way?” Richard said, nodding. “I spend five years with Lois, raising a child, making a home, and the minute Superman shows up – _bam_ – it’s back to him.”

Maxima nodded seriously.

“The ways of love were ever more cruel than the ways of war.”

“So,” Richard said. “When is Superman going to show up? Are you going to fight him?”

Perhaps seeing Superman get punched in the face would be good for him. 

“I told you before,” Maxima said. “I am done with that soft-headed fool. There are – what is it you humans say? – plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“That’s very mature of you,” Richard agreed. “And quite right. You’re a gorgeous woman...” He lost his train of thought as his eyes wander down the length of her legs. “…gorgeous…” he repeats, trying to remember what he was saying. “Men should be chasing after you, not the other way round.” He loosened his tie. Was it hot in there or was it just him?

“Exactly,” Maxima said. “I have decided to begin dating again.”

“Anyone in mind?” Richard asked. His eyes ran absently over her legs. That sweet aftertaste was back, and he wished she’d chosen a place with an air conditioner.

“I have.” It took him a moment to process that cat-like smile on Maxima’s face – not unlike a cat deciding where to take a nice big bite.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh. Uh, Maxima, that’s very flattering, but…”

“Enough talk,” Maxima said. She stood up. “We will fornicate. Now.”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea…” He trailed off because he was having trouble remembering why it’s a bad idea. In fact, he was remembering a lot of reasons why it was an excellent idea. Maxima was hot. Plus she wasn't Clark’s cousin. Plus she was sort of Clark’s ex, so it would be like sticking it to him.

“Don’t… don’t you want to get to know each other first?” He said weakly. That aftertaste was stronger than ever, and it was really quite pleasant. If only he could just touch Maxima’s smooth skin, and maybe lick it and…

Richard’s thoughts came to a grinding halt, not unlike a wrench thrown in the gears.

“What did you give me?” He said. 

Maxima smiled. 

“Do you like it? I borrowed it from Poison Ivy. She was most helpful.”

Her mouth was moving, but Richard had stopped listening somewhere in the middle. He was busy staring at her long legs. Maxima didn’t seem too displeased when he reached out and starts running his hands over her hot skin.

“Foolish human,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “You presume a great deal on short acquaintance.”

“Smooth,” he murmured against her skin, kissing the inside of her knee. He felt the muscles of her thigh jump under the skin.

“At least,” Maxima said, sounding just a tad breathless. “You know your proper place before me, on your knees.”

Right at that moment, Richard had no problem with being on his knees. Right now that seemed like the best possible place to be. He started kissing his way up her leg, hands sliding up her skirt and …

“ _Maxima_!”

That was a woman’s voice Richard noted absently, before he was dragged away. There was a dizzying confusion of movement and all Richard knew was that suddenly Maxima was unconscious on the ground and Kara was standing over him, looking absolutely ravishing with her tossled blonde hair and wide, worried blue eyes.

“Richard! Are you okay? Did she do anything –”

Somewhere at the back of Richard’s mine, he knew he should be worrying about something, but his mind had been short-circuited by one simple thing.

“… _spandex_.”

Two more masked figures appeared nearby.

“Huntress to Oracle,” one said. “Hostage is not looking good.”

“He seems pretty happy,” Kara said doubtfully.

“Not with that grin,” the third woman said. “He’ll have brain damage for sure.”

Richard was having trouble making a decision. Three gorgeous women in skin-tight outfits in front of him. On the one hand, Huntress’ black leather gloves had possibilities. On the other hand, the third woman had most amazing legs he’d ever seen, even better than Maxima’s, encased in fishnet stockings that should be all kinds of illegal. Finally he decided to go with his favourite fantasy.

Kara yelped – more in surprise than displeasure – as he swept her feet out from under her. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her soundly.

“Oh my,” she said when he lets her go, sounding dishevelled and entirely happy.

“Aphrodisiac,” the Huntress said. “Probably Poison Ivy.”

“Oracle can probably synthesise an antidote.” The third woman reached for her comlink.

The Huntress put out a hand and stopped her.

“Why?” She asked, voice suspiciously reasonable. “It’ll wear off soon enough.”

“But he’ll be in a lot of discomfort till then,” Kara said, trying half-heartedly to fend off Richard’s attentions.  As Richard was sucking one of her fingers into his mouth, she wasn’t trying too hard.

“You’re absolutely right,” Huntress said seriously. “It would be our duty as superheroes to… relieve as much of the discomfort as possible.”

Kara was already half-convinced. The third woman looked doubtful.

“But wouldn’t that be taking advantage of him…?”

“Advantage?” Huntress sounded outraged, and just a little bit scandalized. “Canary, would it be taking advantage to offer a suffering man first aid?”

“No…”

“Exactly. It is nothing less than our moral duty to relieve him of his discomfort. Besides.” Huntress kicked Richard’s legs open to kneel behind Kara. “You haven’t been properly initiated into the superhero community until you’ve had inappropriate sex under the influence of some external agent or another.”

Richard right now was in a place he was pretty sure was close to heaven. He had an excellent view down Kara’s cleavage, Canary was unbuttoning his shirt and Huntress was undoing his zipper with her teeth…

“KARA!”

Superman was floating overhead, his eyes glowing a shade of red that Richard had never seen before.

Huntress and Canary moved so fast, Richard could have sworn they were metas. One moment they were nearly in his lap, the next they were several metres away, looking as innocent as women in bondage outfits could look.

That left Kal’s cousin straddling Richard’s waist.

“Um…” She said, looking not unlike a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. “Kal-El, I can explain–”

“Explain? There will be no explaining! Go the Fortress _now_!”

Kara floated off Richard until she was eye to eye with Kal.

“You’re always doing this!” She shouted. “You’re not my father!”

“No I am not,” he said. “And thank Rao for that or I’d have gone grey years ago. Fortress _now_ , or I call Lois.”

Kara promptly vanished in a blur of blue and red.

Kal turned on Richard. He looked furious and hurt and kind of violent (a potentially lethal combination). Canary was speaking in the background.

“… go easy on him, Superman. He’s not himself…”

Richard stared up at Superman. Unknown to him at the time, the words that passed his lips would be the only words capable of salvaging their friendship.

“God, you look hot in that spandex.”

There was a long silence, punctuated by Canary saying:

“See?”

The red light faded from Kal’s eyes, replaced by concern.

“Poison Ivy?” He said.

“We think so.”

Kal shook his head.

“And you were going to take advantage of him? For shame. And Kara’s just an innocent.”

Even in his befuddled state, Richard knew there was something wrong with that statement.

“Actually,” he began. “That’s a common miscon–”

Canary slapped a hand across his mouth.

“Don’t worry,” she said hurriedly to Superman. “I’ll take him to Oracle’s. She’ll sort him out.”

“I’ll help,” Huntress chimed in.

To Richard, this sounded like a fantastic idea. He no longer had Supergirl straddling his waist, but Canary’s knee was rubbing discretely against his while Huntress met his gaze from behind Clark’s back and licked her lips expressively. Plus, having Oracle sort him out with her blindfolds and her exotic coffee could only end well. Yes, this could still be a very, very good night.

“Richard needs to go home,” Clark said firmly.

“We’ll take him!”

Clark frowned and gently pushed Canary aside to pick Richard up.

“Thank you, no,” he said. “I’ll escort him home.”

Richard started to protest at being taken away from the two nice ladies in leather, but his hands quickly found a distraction in the complicated array of muscle beneath blue spandex. Clark cleared his throat, and very firmly moved Richard’s hands away. His face was a bit pink.

“Don’t think I won’t be talking to Batman about this,” he warned Canary and Huntress. “And shouldn’t you be doing something about Maxima while she’s still unconscious?”

* * *

Richard woke up with his face pressed into a warm shoulder and that pleasant tingle that came from lots of orgasms. In that dim stage between awake and asleep, he realized he must have taken Chloe’s advice. He smiled and snuggled closer. Still half-asleep, he thought that the shoulder was awfully muscled for a woman’s 

Realization hit him like a ice-cold spray of water.

He scrambled out of bed, falling to the floor with a thump. Clark sat up, peering over the edge of the bed wearing bemused expression and not much else.

“Pink kryptonite!” Richard swore. “Pink fucking kryptonite! Goddammit, you said you destroyed all of it!”

On the other side of Clark, the more slender figure of Lois sat up, holding a sheet to her breasts, hair adorably mussed. Richard relaxed marginally.

“Oh thank god.”

He gathered up the sheets, trying to salvage what remained of his dignity. Lois slid out of bed and put a slim hand on his forehead.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Fine. Lois – what’s going on?”

“You don’t remember?”

“It’s kinda blurry.”

“Well you were gassed.”

“With what?”

“An aphrodisiac. A concentrated dose of the pheromones Poison Ivy secretes.” Clark’s steady voice would have been more reassuring if he’d put some damn pants on.

“So how did I end up here?” Richard asked. He thought it a rather important question.

“Well…” Lois actually blushed. It was probably the first time in four years Richard had seen her blush. “Clark didn’t think it would be safe to leave you alone… something about vigilantes with no personal boundaries…so he brought you here.”

Right at this moment, naked and wrapped in a sheet and trying hard not to think about why his ass was hurting, Richard thought Clark was kind of a hypocrite.

“But that still doesn’t explain _this_.” He waved his hand at the rumpled bed.

“Well…” Lois was getting steadily pinker. “You were in a lot of discomfort, and it would have been cruel to leave you like that, and we thought you’d prefer it be someone you know than…”

“So we had – you – I – we–?”

Lois nodded.

“Clark was there too.”

“Doing what? Wait, you know what. Don’t tell me.” This was not at all how he’d wanted this night to end. Well, he hadn’t wanted it to start either, but he had a vague memory of his hand up Maxima’s skirt and Huntress’ head in his lap. Getting dragged to his ex-fiancée’s house to have a threesome with her and her new husband (and please god, let it have been all about Lois) was _not_ an acceptable substitute.  “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s alright, really. We didn’t mind.” Her smile broadened. “We _really_ didn’t mind.”

“Not that. You didn’t have the right to do that, Lois. Not anymore.”

“You seemed pretty keen on the idea at the time. In fact, it _was_ your idea.”

“I was drugged!”

Clark cleared his throat.

“I’ll just go make some coffee…”

He slipped out of the room whilst Lois and Richard squared off.

“I’d have thought _anything_ was a good idea,” Richard said. “My God, if you’d handed me a tub of lube and a goat, I’d have been ecstatic.”

“Did you just compare me to a _goat_?”

“Yes! You seem to have about as much self-control!”

“That’s rich for the guy who was begging Superman to ‘teach him the error of his ways’ last night!”

“Read my lips, Lois. _I – was – drugged!_ ” Richard was so mad he could barely think straight. “You know, this is just typical of you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I want to make our marriage work, you’re all over Superman. But the minute I’m under the influence of a paranormal agent, you want me to help you and Clark’s sexual experiments, and thank you afterwards for the privilege.”

“The way I remember it, it wasn’t exactly a hardship for you!’

“Oh yeah, lets make this about me. Lets make me the bad guy. Because clearly raising your son, and living with you for five years, and using my uncle to help you get ahead in your career, and then stepping aside for Clark _makes me the villain_!”

He shouted the words in her face. It felt strangely freeing. She stared at him, mouth in an ‘o’, for once at a loss for words.

“Yeah, well…” She fumbled. “…last night you called Clark ‘Batman’ and tried to make him call you ‘Robin’!”

So, she wanted it that way, did she? If she thought Richard wouldn’t go there, she was sadly mistaken. Richard had five years experience of Lois’ sexual kinks. He had plenty of ammunition. 

“One word, Lois. _Hawkwoman_.” 

* * *

An hour later, Richard walked into the Daily Planet offices, feeling like death warmed over. He and Lois had screamed at each other for half an hour before he’d dragged his clothes on and left, brushing past a furiously blushing Clark on the way out the kitchen 

“Richard!”  Chloe rushed to meet him. “Are you okay?!”

“Huh?”

“You got kidnapped by a super-villain yesterday afternoon, remember?” She jerked her chin in the direction of the new pane of glass being fitted into his window by workmen.

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

“So? What did she want?” Chloe said eagerly.

“What every other woman in this city seems to want. A date.” Richard flung his coat across his chair. “Why can’t anyone get this? I don’t want a date! I don’t want a girlfriend! I don’t want meaningless sex! I just want to be left alone!”

Chloe stared at him.

“Richard,” she said carefully. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, fine.” He sat down. “I just got kidnapped, drugged, molested, woke up in bed with my ex-fiancee and her boyfriend, but everything’s peachy keen.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe grabbed his arm. “Say again. You had sex with Lois?”

Richard covered his eyes.

“God, I hope it was just Lois….” He muttered. 

“Oh god.” Chloe had gone completely white. “The Lang Curse! You just got re-involved with a romantic interest of Clark’s! What were you thinking? You may as well have walked under ten ladders whilst holding five black cat, breaking mirrors at every step!”

“That’s it.” Richard stood up. “I have had it up to _here_! I am sick of talk about this curse. For the last time, there is no such thing as the Lana Lang curse!”

There was a collective gasp from the newsroom. In the back, there was a gasp as someone fainted.

“What are you crazy?” Chloe hissed. “You just said the name!”

“Name? Oh, you mean _Lana Lang_. See, there. I said it again.”

Chloe slapped him.

“Stop that!”

“Please.” Richard rubbed his cheek sourly. “Like it’s going to do anything.”

“You need to have sex with someone else right now if you’re to have any chance of survival!” Chloe looked around. “Where’s Cat Grant?”

“She fainted.” Said one of the secretaries. Sure enough, it was the gossip columnist who was crumpled on the carpet and being fanned by several editors more interested in looking down her shirt than actually fanning.

“Oh for the love of – the one time we need a ginormous slut is the one time she decides to get prim and proper and swoon.” Chloe gave Richard a critical once-over and squared her shoulders. “I guess there’s only one thing to do. I’ll do it myself.”

“Chloe.” He took a wary step back. It had to be something in the water supply, he thought. Nothing else could explain the past few days. “What about Jimmy?”

“We’re off this week,” she said dismissively.

“No we’re not…!” A voice called mournfully from the editorial section.

“Shut up, Jimmy.” Chloe grabbed Richard’s arm and began dragging him toward the stationary cupboard. “I had _better_ get a raise for this.”

Richard fended her off.

“Chloe, for the last time. _No_. I am not having sex with you or anyone else, and there is no such thing as the Lana Lang c–”

“RICHARD!”

That wasn’t Chloe’s voice.

* * *

Lets backtrack a few minutes 

Jimmy had taken advantage of Richard’s late arrival to go rifling through his desk drawer for the Supergirl photos. As he was walking out, photos stuffed inside his shirt, he’d seen Richard walk out the elevator, and decided to make a quick detour through the gossip section. As such when Cat Grant gasped and made a (surprisingly graceful) swoon, he’d done the gentlemanly thing and caught her. And what with having an armful of busty gossip columnist and hearing his on-again off-again girlfriend offer to do his boss in the stationary closet, he was rather distracted and didn’t notice that one of the photos had slipped out of his shirt and slid across the carpet to settle gently in front of the elevator.

Thus when the elevator pinged and Clark Kent walked out the first thing he saw was… well, okay, the _first_ thing he saw was Chloe dragging a protesting Richard to the stationary cupboard. But the _second_ thing he saw was a photograph of Supergirl kissing the head of the Daily Planet International Section who was definitely not under the influence of mind-bending drugs.

“RICHARD!”

Clark’s eyes turned bright red behind his glasses. His glasses were slipping down. The photograph in his hands burst into flames with a flash of involuntary heat vision. Richard and Chloe froze. Chloe made a small noise that sounded like ‘meep’ and sensibly disappeared beneath her desk.

Clark stalked over to Richard. Even the people who didn’t already know that Clark was Superman were clearing the floor in anticipation of a messy homicide.

“You had better have a good explanation for this,” Clark said through gritted teeth. “And it better be in the next ten seconds.”

“Um.” Richard’s mind went utterly blank. “She came onto me?”

He knew even as it was coming out of his mouth that it was a stunningly bad idea. Clark snarled and lunged at Richard. Just then, Chloe leapt out from underneath the desk. While everyone else had been cowering behind their desks, she’d actually been opening up the small lead safe she kept on hand at work just in case of an incident like this.

“Time out!” She brained Clark with a chunk of kryptonite, and Clark’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head. The huge man folded like a very big, very heavy piece of laundry and crumpled to the floor.

“Chloe,” Jimmy breathed. “You knocked out Clark.”

The rest of the Supergirl photos were sliding out of his shirt, but he didn’t seem to either notice or care, staring at Chloe in trembling awe, and not a small amount of lust.

“Yeah.” Chloe tossed the kryptonite from hand to hand. “Just call me Supergirl. Can I have that raise now?” This was directed at Richard.

Richard’s mouth was still dry from sheer terror, and all that came out was a weak wheeze.

“Sure. Just let me get my –” He turned to his desk and his shoe slid on one glossy Supergirl photograph.

Someone shouted ‘ _that window's not -_ ' as Richard slammed into the unsecured glass, and suddenly he was in free-fall. 

 _Of course,_ Richard thought resignedly, as the street grew closer and closer. Of course this had to happen after he’d turned Supergirl down, and after Superman had been knocked unconscious and would probably just let him drop anyway. Lois was going to be devastated, once she got over being furious that he’d died before she could get the last word in. Chloe was going to get his job. Good god in heaven, Clark was going to be Jason and Kon’s primary father-figure. Richard hoped he’d remembered to leave his list of ‘Things Jason and Conner are not allowed to do until they’re eighteen’ on the fridge, within easy line of sight. A few of the things on it were maybe a little superfluous – even Clark couldn’t be irresponsible enough to let his kids play around with the Phantom Zone, right? – but better safe than sorry.

The ground was looking a whole lot closer now. Richard closed his eyes. 

He was falling, falling, falling…

Not-falling.

“Good morning, Mr White.”

Richard opened his eyes. The woman who had caught him in her arms was gorgeous, with lithe tanned brown limbs and a face with a nose too sharp for traditional beauty, but entirely unforgettable. She was wearing star-spangled panties, and a crown over tresses of jet-black hair.

“I admit I was hoping to run into you, Mr White” Wonder Woman continued, in a rich, amused voice as they floated above the streets. “After hearing from Superboy that you were available. But I never dreamed you’d leap quite so literally into my arms.”

Richard sighed and gave in to fate. If the universe wanted him to get laid so badly, then why not? Fighting it certainly didn’t seem to be working.

“Diana, do you like coffee?”

“I adore soy double shot moccachinos.”

“Oh, we’re going to get along just _fine_.”


End file.
